


falling for you, literally

by AccidentallyClosedTabs



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Humor, Ice Skating, Lambert Being Lambert (The Witcher), Lambert Being an Asshole (The Witcher), M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Relationship, Swearing, this is just lambert being rude and horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccidentallyClosedTabs/pseuds/AccidentallyClosedTabs
Summary: Lambert runs a martial arts studio with Geralt and Eskel. When Geralt brings his boyfriend Jaskier, a professional figure skater, to meet Lambert and Eskel, Lambert makes the mistake of claiming that skating’s easy, and then betting on it. After losing the bet spectacularly, Lambert is forced to take ice skating lessons as his forfeit. He’s dreading going back on the ice— his ass already aches so fucking bad from the last time, and definitely not in the fun and sexy way. Maybe his hot skating instructor, Aiden, will provide some incentive.AKA: Ice-skating modern AU
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 99





	falling for you, literally

As Lambert fell on his ass for the twentieth time in the last five minutes, he let out an impressive string of curses. Jaskier cackled gleefully somewhere behind him. Lambert scrambled to the wall to pull himself up and shot a withering glare at Geralt, who just grinned at him remorselessly. He wished there weren’t any kids in the ice rink so that he could tackle the bastards and beat their gods-damned asses. That is, assuming he could skate the few feet over to them, which was looking more and more implausible by the second as he wobbled in place with a death grip on the wall.

Two days ago, Geralt had brought his boyfriend, Jaskier, to join a beginners judo class Geralt taught at the martial arts studio he ran with Lambert and Eskel. Jaskier was a professional figure skater, and it was his first time trying judo. As the rest of the class trickled out afterwards, Jaskier flopped down on the ground next to where Geralt was standing.

“That honestly wasn’t as bad as I expected,” Jaskier panted. “I mean, sure, I feel like I just got run over, but I’ve had far worse skating practices. There is no fucking way I’m making it all the way through practice this afternoon, though.”

And here Lambert made a terrible mistake. “You think  _ skating  _ is worse than  _ judo _ ? You must be out of your fucking mind,” he scoffed.

Jaskier turned to glare at him. “Oh? Have you ever even worn a pair of skates?” Geralt looked a bit concerned, but apparently he was too much of a coward to intervene. 

Lambert scowled. “No, but I don’t need to be fucking Einstein to know that there’s no way that figure skating is harder than judo. In fact, I bet it’s pretty easy, comparatively.”

Jaskier scowled, but then his expression turned mischievous. “Oh? Wanna bet?”

And so, here Lambert was, cold, miserable, and sore. Jaskier watched him suffer for a few more minutes with obvious glee before he finally took pity on him and helped him off the ice.

“So, what did we learn today, Lambert?” Jaskier asked with a grin.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m choosing to interpret that as, ‘Jaskier, I learned that no particular type of sport is harder than any other, and that belittling one to legitimize another is toxic and unnecessary. Thank you Jaskier for teaching me this invaluable lesson.’”

“I’m going to rip your entrails out through your throat.”

Jaskier patted his back. “Sure you will. Now, time for your forfeit.”

— 

A few days later, Lambert begrudgingly stood at the edge of the skating rink again. As his forfeit, he had to take ice skating lessons for as long as Jaskier wanted. Lambert was going to hunt him down and rip his eyes out with his bare hands—

Someone put a hand on his shoulder, and he startled, whipping around. “Hands off, asshole.”

The man behind him put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Sorry, I just wanted to ask if you needed some assistance getting onto the ice?” 

“I didn’t ask for your fucking help.”

The other man arched an eyebrow. He had dark, curly hair and light brown skin, and he was just a bit taller than Lambert. He was... actually really fucking hot, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline, and a mischievous grin, and— Lambert scowled harder, annoyed with himself. 

Hot-But-Annoying smirked. “I mean, you kinda did, considering I’m your skating instructor. Here, let me help you get down.”

Lambert’s face warmed, and he grumbled an apology as the other man helped him onto the ice. 

“My name’s Aiden. I assume you’re Lambert?” At Lambert’s nod, he continued. “So, the first step in learning to skate is to figure out how to balance...

After an incredibly frustrating hour, Lambert could not only stand on the ice, but also take a few steps forward before grabbing back onto the wall. Aiden was… actually, he was surprisingly good company. He was easy to talk to, and he laughed at Lambert’s bullshit instead of snapping at him like most people did.  _ It was fucking weird. _

He confidently took another few steps away from the wall, but one of his skates caught on a bump in the ice, and he started to slip backwards. Before he could resign himself to yet another bruise on his ass, a pair of strong arms caught him. Lambert found himself gazing up at Aiden’s infectious grin.  _ Damn, the guy was a lot stronger than he looked.  _ Lambert realized he was staring, scowled, and extracted himself from Aiden’s hold, careful not to slip again. He definitely wasn’t blushing.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Aiden teased, still grinning at him. He checked his watch, and if Lambert wasn’t mistaken, his face fell a bit— but that couldn’t be right. “Your time slot’s nearly over. Bet you can’t get all the way out of the rink by yourself.”

_ Bastard.  _ Lambert pushed himself off the wall with newfound determination, and painstakingly hobbled to the entrance of the rink, collapsing onto the sweet, sweet salvation of dry land as soon as he crossed the threshold. 

Aiden laughed, and Lambert wheezed out a “Fuck you,” his face warming.  _ Again. He needed to get the fuck away from this guy before he turned into a gods-damned sap like Eskel. Full offense, Care Bear.  _

Aiden pulled him to his feet, and led him over to the bench. He knelt down to help Lambert get his skates off, since Jaskier hadn’t come by to pick him up yet. The menace insisted on both picking him up and dropping him off at his skating lessons to ensure he was fulfilling his forfeit. 

“You don’t seem too enthused about skating,” Aiden observed. 

Lambert definitely wasn’t thinking about the position they were in. He scowled. “I lost a bet. Made the mistake of claiming that skating was easy.”

Aiden grinned. “I suppose I’ll have to work extra hard to make sure I fix that misconception.” He laughed as Lambert groaned. 

Lambert pulled his boots back on, wincing as they rubbed against the blisters on his ankles. Aiden noticed, and pulled something out of his bag. “Here, I put together a little kit for all my beginner clients to help with the pain. Breaking in your feet is the worst, but I promise it gets better with time, and it’s totally worth it.” 

“Oh, thanks.” Lambert said with a small smile—  _ What the fuck?—  _ before he caught himself and schooled his face back into a scowl. Based on his smirk, Aiden had noticed. Lambert scowled harder. His phone buzzed, and he realized it was a text from Jaskier to let him know he’d arrived.  _ He wasn’t disappointed. No. Fuck off. Begone, thought. _

Aiden got up and stretched, making his shirt ride up a bit— _ Stop fucking staring you perv, there’s barely even any skin showing, what is this, the 18th century? Gonna get all hot and bothered by some fucking ankles next? _ — and then offered Lambert a hand up off the bench. His legs were incredibly sore, so the help was begrudgingly accepted. “Try to wear your thickest socks next time,” Aiden said, “that helps too. See you in a few days.” 

“See you then,” Lambert said gruffly, and walked out into the main area of the building to return his skates.  _ Shit. He knew this feeling.  _ He felt the same as he did when he first met Keira.  _ Fuck.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t have an ice skating rink where I live, so I can only skate a couple times a year, meaning parts of this may be inaccurate. This fic was born because I’m missing skating really badly right now. Also, I’ve only watched the show and read a fuckton of fic, so characterizations could be off.


End file.
